Al Franken, better than pie in the face

Al Franken is doing his fair share to keep me entertained on this fifth day of work, and he doesn't just take a pie in the face to make me laugh. He goes the extra mile and gets sued...by FOX.

I should credit my father with providing me with the second link and, by extension, enlivenning my sleepy workplace just that much more. And, while I'm making hourly shout-outs here, I should also tip my hat to Karl for his daring escape from Uzbekistan to London where he will be arriving shortly (if my trans-atlantic math doth serve me right). Karl's final Uzbekistan-genereated e-mail provided some especially funny snapshots, among them:

His description of Uzbekistan as "this Marxforsaken country" and his housing as the "most obnoxious of shitholes". His description of "what is supposedly the best disco in town, Shabistan...and it was, too - there was only about a quarter as many hookers as there are at the other places." And if you think Karl is being unfair jsut remember this: Uzbekistan is one of TWO countries IN THE WORLD that is doubly landlocked. Doubly landlocked. That is God not liking you.

In a Texas book depository style

There is no more satisfying a wake up news broadcast than that of Ralph Nader being hit in the face with a pie. I only wish that I had woken up earlier so that I could have been brushing my teeth or having a glass of juice; anything that I could have spit through my teeth in unrestrained animal pleasure would have done. Personally, I hope this is just the beginning of a larger strategy and if it is I hope Ralph Nader stops through Madison before going home. If only Al Gore had thought of this in 2000 we might not have Bush in the White House, or an aviator's suit for that matter.

This is day five of the return to work disaster and I feel slightly outside myself. I got to go out last night and destroy a friend's computer which would have been more immediately satisfying had I agreed to back-up her data before mortally wounding her grey-boxed beast. But, a few PBR's further up the road everything seemed forgivable and even fixable, which, I later discovered, it was. Even better I got to visit, only briefly, with Madison ex-pat Ben and the "usually-at-work" Peter. Aside from the "I wish I weren't in Madison working at Rubin's"/"Chicago is nice" conversation that precedes any Aaron/Ben interaction I got to hear Ben and Peter formulate odds on the DNC's 2004 presidential nomination. To wit, Ben's blog is a fantastic resource on politics and, in general, the more scholarly pursuits of life--and Ben knows scholarly pursuits.

I, on the other hand, know only of an undying passion to not be at work for another seven days in a row.

Nailed like Christ

I just got back this credit application report that a customer submitted to Wells Fargo and realized something about myself. I have no new car debt. I have no new life debt. Now this shouldn't be too straneg to me because I essentially live as a high-schooler with a fake ID and high-schoolers rarely have anything but clothing-related debt. All I've got is college-education debt and that doesn't get you girls, drinks, publishing contracts, or illegitimate babies. Some of these things I can continue to miss out on, but, as people continue to move away and Madison shrinks to a three-friend city I might find that new life debt hard to resist so long as it offers me a change of venue as well as a 28.3% interest rate. Then I could get nailed like Christ for sure.

Sleeping, standing up

"Monday, monday, monday," as I shake my head in disapproval.

I need a day added into the week between Saturday and Sunday so that when Sunday turns to Monday I'm not sleeping on my shoesoles, recovering form Saturday still. The aforementioned Saturday of conflicting schedules was put to bed around half 4 and I for 1 do not plan on being it's war widow. The night went as smoothly as any plan involving everyone I know can be said to go smoothly, which is to say "no one's feeelings got hurt." Except when Jeff informed Elizabeth that she'd never see any of us again and that she'll probably forget about us. And.....scene. Otherwise, "The Hat Party" was great fun and Jeff really made good on his promise to metaphorically rock my teeth out. That was Saturday; Sunday was spent at work; and now I'm on to Monday, sleeping standing up.

With so many people leaving town it is perhaps worth noting that Karl will be returning from Uzbekistan in a week+1 day. In a bit of a run-up to his return I wil try and post some Karl in Uzbekistan-related materials from his hilarious e-mails and my equally, but opposite, e-mails. It's not a promise though, just a Monday-morning dream.